


Unknown Tongue

by BakerKeen



Series: Let Me Count the Ways [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Deepthroating, Jealous John, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, Threesome - M/M/M, handjobs, mild breathplay, zero plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:16:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5851927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakerKeen/pseuds/BakerKeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is annoyed that John can deepthroat with ease and try as he might, he cannot. He enlists Lestrade's help and sexytimes ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [belle333](https://archiveofourown.org/users/belle333/gifts).



"You tip your chin up like this," John explained. "That way you make a more straight path from your lips to your throat."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I'm not a complete idiot, John. But it's difficult to maintain that position once it's actually in my mouth. And I seem to be unable to repress my gag reflex." They both considered the cock in front of them. "Perhaps this will be easier, since his is so much smaller than yours."

"Oy! I'm right here, you git."

John sighed tiredly, but Sherlock was completely unperturbed. "It's nothing to be defensive about. You have a perfectly average cock."

"You do actually want him to stay, yeah? His cock is gorgeous." 

Sherlock shrugged. "Statistically speaking, his p--"

"How about we move on to the part where you're too busy sucking Greg off to talk?" John said, in a tone that did not invite argument. 

"I'll second that," Greg agreed. 

Sherlock huffed as though he thought they were being ridiculous. "How shall I start, then?"

John glanced up Greg's strong, lean form and wondered for a moment exactly how they'd gotten to this point. For once, Sherlock had agreed to join Greg and John for their traditional post-case pub night, which John had not thought much of at the time. Then, several drinks in, Sherlock had fixed Greg with his deducing gaze. John tried to glare at him in warning but he'd resolutely avoided eye contact. Greg eventually noticed and tipped his head in a resigned, out-with-it gesture. 

"I'm wondering whether you could assist me with a small problem," Sherlock began, and John's stomach tightened. He recognized that silky tone for exactly what it was. He glared hard at Sherlock, willing him to look at him, but instead Sherlock turned his body to crowd Lestrade. 

Lestrade narrowed his eyes wearily. "What'd you do? I told you, I can't sort things out with the nuns again."

"No, nothing like _that_ ," Sherlock had purred, a warm smile playing on his lips. "I stayed away from the Nativity scene this year. It's something more _personal_."

Thirty minutes later, they were naked and John was leading a master class on deepthroating in their bedroom. "When you're first learning, it's easiest to start in a 69 position." They all paused and watched Greg's cock twitch. "Which even I can tell Greg is not opposed to," John continued with a wry smile. 

"Sod off," Greg replied good naturedly. 

John pressed down on Greg's shoulders so he was seated on the edge of the bed, then pushed on his chest until his back hit the mattress. He straddled his thighs, leaning over to rub his fingers through Greg's mostly-silver chest hair. "Perfect," he murmured, running his thumbs over Greg's nipples. There was no response to that, so he merely tweaked them lightly and stood back up, then moved so he was sitting beside Greg's head. 

He waved Sherlock over, indicating the spot on Greg's other side. "Ok, tip your chin up, and take him in as far as you can, then you kind of swallow around him." He glanced at Greg. "All right?"

"Fire when ready," he said, crossing his arms behind his head. 

Sherlock crouched down and drew Greg's mostly-soft prick into his mouth, softly sucking and swirling his tongue while Greg made encouraging little noises. John knew from experience that for whatever reason, Sherlock absolutely loved sucking a soft cock into hardness; he'd been woken up that way countless times. A minute later, they were both rock hard and John wasn't far behind them. 

"Ok," John said. "Go ahead and try."

Sherlock tipped his chin, pushed forward, and almost immediately gagged. He pulled off, cheeks flushed. "It's not working," he said accusingly. 

John put a placating hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "It's all right, love. You just have to slow down. Go as far as you're comfortable, hold it there, and slowly nudge forward. Slow is sexy, yeah?" He crouched down, swirling his tongue over Greg's head before slowly sliding his cock in his mouth and then pulling back. "He won't get bored waiting. You're not bored, are you, Greg?"

"Not exactly," he murmured breathily. 

"See? Take your time." John pulled Greg back into his mouth, swallowing him down once, twice, three times at a leisurely pace. "But if you get bored waiting for your gag to calm, there's plenty down here to keep your hands busy." He cupped Greg's bollocks gently before running a finger down his perineum to ghost over his hole. Greg took a raggedy breath. 

John sat up, turning to face Sherlock again. His expression was passive but John smirked at his mottled chest and flushed cheeks. "Enjoying the show? Go on, then. Your turn."

Sherlock looked surprised, as though he'd been called upon unexpectedly, but leaned forward anyway. John crouched beside him, murmuring directions and encouragement. "Stick your tongue out past your lips, that'll ooen up your throat. That's it. Jesus, this is hot." 

Sherlock got farther this time, and paused when he started to gag. John rubbed his shoulder. "That's it, gorgeous. Now try to yawn." Suddenly, Sherlock's head closed forward a few inches, until his protruding tongue was tickling the base of Greg's cock. 

Greg swore. Sherlock's widened. John hissed a quiet, affirming, "Yesss." And then Sherlock's lips twitched, and his eyes gleamed mischievously, and then he pulled back and went to work, taking Greg's cock deeper and deeper until he could swipe his tongue against Greg's balls. 

Greg was moaning lightly now. "Jesus, Sherlock, feels fucking amazing." He gripped Sherlock's hair and thrust down his throat once, only to have his hand dragged away and pinned to the bed. 

"Manners," John reminded him in a dangerous voice. 

"Sorry, mate," Greg groaned. "I've dreamed of shutting him up this way more than once. Got a bit carried away."

John narrowed his eyes. "You try to pull that on Sherlock again and I will do the same to you." 

Greg eyes moved down to John's huge cock looming over him and back to his murderous expression. "Manners," he agreed. 

John nodded, his face losing its menace. "Darling, I think Lestrade needs a bit more to do while you're sucking him off. Why don't you let him return the favor?"

"Hell yes," Greg agreed, pulling on Sherlock's leg and helping him straddle his face. He lifted his head to nuzzle at Sherlock's bollocks for a moment, sucking one into his mouth. Then he reached a hand between them and stroked Sherlock's shaft, twisting his wrist and squeezing over the head as he switched to the other ball. Finally, he tipped his head back and guided Sherlock's dripping cock into his mouth. 

All three men groaned, then chuckled. John ran a light, teasing stroke down his own shaft and watched as Greg and Sherlock sucked each other in unison. Sherlock seemed to have finally gotten the hang of deepthroating and had set a slow, leisurely pace, not really enough to finish Greg yet. It didn't seem to bother Greg, who was matching his pace. Both men were making little noises here and John realized that with them coordinating their movements it probably felt as though they were sucking their own cocks. 

John ran a hand lightly up Sherlock's flank to squeeze his plush arse. Sherlock widened his stance a bit and John pushed his cheeks apart, running a thumb lightly over his opening, then dipping his head down to breathe on it. Sherlock shuddered and he began moving faster over Greg's erection. 

John settled in to play, licking the inside of his cheeks and scraping his teeth lightly over the wet skin. He kissed and licked Sherlock's perineum, then moved on, slowly circling closer to his opening. Sherlock was working Greg's cock in earnest, who kep breaking away from Sherlock's cock to pant and whimper. John was dizzy with lust, wishing he had two more hands and another set of eyes so he could do all he wanted to do and see all he wanted to see. He spared a hand to feel Greg's lips stretched wide and wet around Sherlock's prick. John moaned, and then Greg moaned, releasing Sherlock's cock. "Fuck, Sherlock, I'm gonna come. Fuckfuckfuckfuuuuuuuuuuuuck..."

It occurred to John that none of them was wearing condoms, and he wondered briefly whether Sherlock had pulled away. He put that out of his mind, though, and focused on the prize in front of him. He massaged each little wrinkle with his tongue and lips, and only when Sherlock begged did John finally run a flat tongue directly over his hole.

"God, you two. Lestrade, stop, I don't want to come yet."

John heard the slick sound of Lestrade lazily stroking Sherlock's prick. "Bossy thing, isn't he?" He remarked with a smile, craning has head to swipe his tongue over Sherlock's bollocks. 

"Mmm," John hummed agreeably. He was alternating between laving wet kisses right where Sherlock wanted them, and blowing gently. The sensation seemed to be slowly unraveling the man. 

"Christ, that's good. Oh GOD!" He exclaimed when Greg sucked his balls into his mouth just as John flickered his tongue just inside of him. "I changed my mind. Lestrade, suck me."

"Say my name," Greg responded impishly, stalling his hand. "My ACTUAL name. I know you know it."

Sherlock bucked his hips desperately. "For God's sake, Greg. Please."

Greg chuckled, and apparently swallowed Sherlock down, because Sherlock moaned loudly a moment later and hissed a long, "Yessss." John continue to flicker his tongue just inside Sherlock's hole, resolutely ignored his aching cock. 

"Close," Sherlock choked out, hips stuttering, not sure which mouth to push into. Greg pulled off with a light pop and John heard the slick sounds of him pumping Sherlock's cock. Sherlock groaned and stiffened, his hole puckering against John's lips as he slowed his movements into light, gentle things. Sherlock's body finally slumped and he collapsed onto his side, rolling onto his back and giggling deliriously. 

"Get me a flannel, would ya? I'm covered." 

John surveyed Greg for the first time since Sherlock rolled away and grabbed his dick when he saw splashes of come on his face and belly. He stroked himself firmly, _finally_ , easing some of the aching heaviness. Biting his lip, he repressed a moan as he thought about Sherlock splashing over Greg's face. 

Sherlock snagged a cloth from the bathroom and tossed it to Greg. "John likes your face as it is," he mused. He circled to sit behind John, kissing his shoulder and nibbling his neck. "I didn't know you found that arousing. You can come on my face anytime you like."

"Degrading," John murmured, weakly protesting. 

"Yes, I expect that's why you like it. How very caveman of you." Sherlock caressed lightly over John's sensitive nipples. 

A warm hand closed around John's. "Want some help with that?" Greg's warm brown eyes were crinkled with mischief and John smiled, letting Greg take over. He hummed his approval as Greg's strong fingers slid over his erection. "Been waiting ages to get a hand on this," Greg admitted, looking down. "Fuck, you're gorgeous." 

Greg looked back up at John, his eyes darting from John's eyes, to his mouth, then to Sherlock's eyes. "Gorgeous," he repeated, leaning in slowly, telegraphing the kiss so John could turn away. 

John leaned in and it was nearly perfect. Sherlock at his back, playing with his nipples and sucking a mark onto his collarbone; Greg in front, snogging him senseless and stroking his cock. His hands were softer than Sherlock's, his face scruffier. He was a precision kisser, shifting deftly from light brushes to teasing flicks to sucking John's lower lip, and clearly enjoyed watching John get more and more worked up. 

Greg began kissing his way down John's neck, nipping and sucking in turns. John was adrift on a wave of pleasure when Sherlock's rumbling baritone cut through. "Your refractory period is short for a man your age." 

John looked down and, sure enough, Greg was hard again. Sherlock reached around him, swatting away Greg's hand to wrap his long fingers around both of them. John fumbled in the bedside table, retrieving the lube blindly and drizzling some over them. The lube was cold for a shocking second and then _fuck_ , it was so much better. Both men swore, resting their foreheads together as they watched Sherlock work them. Sherlock did his favorite twisting motion and John arched, thumping his head against Sherlock's shoulder. "You're bloody amazing," he whispered into his skin. 

Greg pulled John's face forward again and slid their tongues together. The technique from earlier was gone; Greg was swiping his tongue against John's sloppily, desperately. Sherlock leaned forward, kissing John's neck and grazing his ear with sharp teeth. "You're close," he murmured. "Let go, love. I want to watch you together." 

Greg's insistent tongue grew slower and he moaned into John's mouth, which set a fire in John's belly. "Shit," he grunted against Greg's lips. Greg broke away to pant, resting his cheek against John's for a moment as Sherlock's talented fingers worked them both. John pulled him back in and for a minute, they tried valiantly to kiss as they chased their climaxes. 

"I'm close, are--?"

"Yeah, close. _Fuck_."

"Gonna come..."

"Yeah, all over me, mmm..."

In the end, they reached their peaks nearly together, bodies shuddering as their kisses slowed and Sherlock's hand fell away. John pulled away, tugging on Sherlock's arm and rearranging then so that he was lying on his back with his head resting on Sherlock's shoulder. Greg stretched out on John's other side, arms folded behind his head and leg splayed to rub against John's. 

Greg broke the silence by giggling. A few seconds later, the absurdity of what'd just happened hot John, and he started laughing, too. "Sherlock, you mad bastard," he managed. 

Greg dropped his voice in an imitation of Sherlock. "'I'm wondering whether you could assist me with a problem.'" John was clutching his ribs now, wiping tears from his eyes.

Sherlock's voice was faintly amused. "I must say that you were quite helpful in that regard. Being able to watch John up close and get immediate feedback made all the difference."

Greg smiled broadly. "Did my good deed for the day, then. Happy to help out with anything in that vein again." He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and began pulling on his clothes. "Best get going, have loads of paperwork to get to tomorrow." 

They (well, John) invited him to stay but he waved them off. After he left, John looked up at Sherlock with a quirks eyebrow. "Exactly how long have you known Greg was gay?"

"He's not," Sherlock contradicted. "He's bisexual." He considered for a moment. "Since the Christmas party where he was ogling Molly in that dress? He was staring at your ass when he thought no one was looking."

John did a double take. "You've been holding out on me for _that long_??!?"

Sherlock sniffed. "I had no idea you were so attracted to him." 

"Bullshit, of course you knew. A) he's a silver fox and EVERYBODY wants him, and B) of course you knew." Sherlock smirked. John kissed him softly. "Seriously, though. Why didn't you tell me you wanted a threesome?" 

Sherlock tipped his head, considering. "I thought you'd get nervous and wouldn't enjoy it as much if you had too much time to think about it."

John nodded his head, agreeing. "Still, it's a bit not good. Next time ask first?" He looked up at Sherlock's tense face. "I'm not mad, love. Just don't want you to keep thinking it's better to beg forgiveness." 

Sherlock nodded, his face relaxing. John kissed him again, slow and sweet. "We can talk more tomorrow. For now, why don't you record every detail of this in your mind palace and then join me in what promises to be some very sweet dreams?" 

Sherlock smiled and turned out the lamp. They rolled over and curled up, breathing in Greg's scent on the sheets and falling into a loose-limbed sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock gets a chance to try his newly acquired skill on John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For belle333, who really, really wanted to read an extended blowjob scene where John gets rough with Sherlock. Figured this was as good a place as any. 
> 
> Please note the additional tags for this chapter: Rough oral sex, Mild breathplay, Jealous John.

The next day, Lestrade called with an urgent case: an apparent double murder-suicide, but Lestrade and Anderson both felt that the evidence didn’t add up. Sherlock had swished in, immediately insulting everybody in the room, including the octogenarian who had found the bodies, and cut John off in the middle of reporting an important fact about the victims. John had bristled, Anderson had coughed something about a lover’s quarrel, and Sherlock glanced over him for a half-second before retorting, “It’s been 5 weeks since you and your wife copulated, not that the act is biologically relevant given your sperm count.” Anderson responded by calling Sherlock a queer, which led to Lestrade banishing him from the crime scene. After the roaring in John’s ears died down, he realized that Sherlock had goaded Anderson into saying what he had with the express purpose of getting rid of him.  


It went on like that for two more days, with Sherlock veering wildly from being socially manipulative to socially tone-deaf and leaving John to pick up the pieces and soothe everyone’s fraying nerves. By the time Sherlock pickpocketed the final bit of evidence by flirting mercilessly and letting the suspect grope his arse, John had reached the end of his rope. He remained on a low boil until they reached the flat.  


John fisted the front of Sherlock’s shirt and pulled him down to bite his ear roughly. “Do you know what Lestrade said to me as we were leaving?” he growled, clawing at Sherlock’s buttons. He didn’t wait for an answer. “He said that you needed to learn some _manners_.”  


Sherlock watched passively as John yanked on his belt buckle and pushed his trousers down his legs. “Did he?” he asked in a voice that would have passed for dispassionate to anyone else as he stepped out of his trousers and pulled off his socks. He stood there, clad in nothing but gray boxer-briefs, looking…  


“Smug, are we?” John taunted. He finished unbuckling his trousers and shoved them down, pulling out his cock. “Why don’t you get on your knees and show me what you learned from our lessons.”  


Sherlock sunk to his knees and John ran his fingers through Sherlock’s curls. "Choose a safeword."

"Pointless," Sherlock responded, shifting his weight minutely. "You're planning on vigorous oral sex with deepthroating. We don't need a safeword for that."

John very nearly growled, tightening his grip in Sherlock’s hair. "You are being petulant," he said, pulling his cock away from his belly and guiding it into Sherlock's open mouth. "Suck," he commanded, and Sherlock did, hollowing his cheeks and sliding his mouth over John as best the fingers in his hair allowed.

John pushed forward slowly, until he was nestled at the back of Sherlock's throat. Sherlock tipped his head back slightly, cupping the underside of John's cock with his tongue, taking him into his throat. John held him there, glaring down at him. "You've been a mouthy little tosser these last few days, and I'm afraid I've lost my patience with you. I told you to pick a bloody safeword. Pick. One."

Sherlock gasped a breath, eyes gleaming, when John released him. "Red," he panted. "Or I'll tap if I can't talk."

"There's a good man," John purred, rubbing his cock along Sherlock's lips and cheeks, trying to school his rage and jealousy. He didn't want to fall completely into the abyss of his darker impulses, but he knew he was standing right on the ragged edge.

Sherlock looked up at him, a gleam in his eye. "Do it," he said quietly. "Show me what happens to mouthy little tossers when they cross John Watson. You know you want to."

It was the smirk that tipped John over. The last wall that had been holding back his madness crumbled, and when John regained his senses, he was thrusting down Sherlock's throat and listening to him choke. He pulled back, keeping the fat head of his cock in Sherlock's mouth but letting him catch his breath. "That man who had his hands on you. What do you think he'd think if he saw you now?" Sherlock swirled his tongue around John's thick cock. "He'd know you're mine, wouldn't he?"

Sherlock hummed his agreement and John shivered. Sherlock sunk back down over him, taking him down to the root and wiggling his head to fit the last inch or so in his tight throat. He held him there a second before sliding back up, looking up at John impishly.  


“Smug,” John repeated, somewhat breathlessly.  


Sherlock pulled off his cock, licking up the shaft and smirking up at him haughtily. “If you don’t like the look on my face, perhaps you should wipe if off.” 

John gripped Sherlock’s hair tightly and shoved his cock down his throat. Sherlock had been unprepared and so began choking almost immediately. “Is this what you want?” John asked, thrusting shallowly, not letting Sherlock breathe. “You want me to punish you for being such a goddamn prick lately?” He pulled out, letting Sherlock gasp a breath before plunging back in. He could feel his rage pulsing through his veins and the need to claim and punish and conquer overtook his senses.  


“Had his fucking hands all over you,” John muttered, hardly aware of what he was saying as he fucked into Sherlock’s mouth in long, hard strokes. Sherlock’s eyes were watering now. “Mine,” he growled, pushing in hard and holding there for a few seconds as though to underscore the word. He pulled out, rubbing himself on Sherlock’s lips, letting him catch his breath.  


“Yours,” Sherlock panted. “Only yours.” He took only a few seconds to breathe before impaling himself on John’s cock again, and good _Christ_ , but it was good. The ring of Sherlock’s throat was so tight around his cock that it was almost painful, and Sherlock’s chin massaging his bollocks when he took him all the way in sent shivers up his spine.  


John thrust in, long strokes that pushed hard into the tight ring of Sherlock’s throat, and he felt the beginnings of his climax tingling at his tailbone. “ _Fuck_ , Sherlock.” He pulled out, stroking himself roughly. “Do you want my come on your face or down your throat?”  


Sherlock gasped for breath. “Both,” he grunted, fondling John’s bollocks, a light smile playing at his lips. “I daresay there will be plenty.”  


Gripping Sherlock’s hair once more, John thrust down his tight, hot throat in a bruising rhythm, no longer able to regulate his pace or how rough he was being. “Fucking mine,” he grunted, hips snapping against Sherlock’s face. “This tongue, this mouth, this throat.” The thrusts were coming too fast now for Sherlock to breathe, and John knew he should stop but he was so close…  


With a loud cry, John sprayed down Sherlock’s throat then pulled out, letting the rest of it splash over his face. “Oh, _fuck_ ,” he gasped, stroking himself hard and fast as the aftershocks coursed through his body. He collapsed onto his chair. “Fucking hell,” he gasped, his breathing starting to slow as the rush of endorphins licked through his body.  


Sherlock was rock hard, and there was a wet spot on his boxer briefs at the tip of his cock. His fingers played at the edge of his boxer briefs uncertainly. John nodded his assent, and Sherlock shoved them away, taking himself in hand and stroking himself swiftly. He groaned in relief, eyes rolling back in his head as he brought himself to a very quick orgasm, catching his release on his discarded vest so it didn’t get on the rug.  


By the time Sherlock had caught his breath, John was kneeling beside him, looking concerned. “Oh, for God’s sake, John,” he croaked, “I’m perfectly fine. In case you hadn’t noticed, I enthusiastically participated.”  


John narrowed his eyes and Sherlock took a sudden interest in retrieving his clothes from the floor. “You’ve been acting like that on purpose to goad me into this.” Sherlock didn’t respond except to huff dismissively, but his ears went pink. “You did!” John laughed. “You tricky bastard.”  


Sherlock pulled his underwear over his hips. “I’ve no idea what you’re on about,” he said, not quite meeting John’s eyes.  


John grinned. “You sneaky git. Once again I’d like to point out that you could have simply said, ‘Hey, I’d like you to dom the shit out of me.’ I’d have been all in on that without you having to go to the trouble of actually pissing off me and half The Yard.”  


Sherlock smirked. “Oh, it was no trouble.”  
John rolled his eyes. “SERIOUSLY, love. Just talk to me. I don’t mind the kinky shit. Just trust me with this stuff, OK?”  


Sherlock nodded, but still looked shy. “I’ll try, John. It’s just all new for me, having someone to try new things with who values my well-being. All of my previous encounters have been focused on getting off quickly with a minimum of personal entanglement.”  


John threaded his fingers through Sherlock’s, squeezing lightly. “Is what we’ve been doing up until now been too… _vanilla_?”  


“Absolutely not,” Sherlock replied, swiftly and firmly. “My wanting to explore new interests with you is not reflective of a lack of satisfaction with the sex we’ve been having. I am unfathomably happy with our sex life.”  


John looked down to where his thumb was rubbing circles on the back of Sherlock’s hand. “I still haven’t …”  


“It’s fine,” Sherlock cut in. “That doesn’t matter.”  


John looked up. “Doesn’t it? That’s not what all this sudden experimentation is really about? You biding your time while you wait and see if I’ll ever take it up—“  


“Most definitely not,” Sherlock said, shaking his head firmly. “It doesn’t bother me if that never happens. What other people do is none of my concern, but it may comfort you to know forgoing anal sex is not uncommon among gay couples.”  


John lifted his face and Sherlock lowered his to press a warm kiss to his lips. “Speaking of,” John asked, pulling away slightly, “How’s that spreadsheet coming along?”  


Sherlock smiled against John’s lips. “Come to bed and I’ll show you. I’ll even demonstrate to make sure you understand all the terminology.”  


“Mouthy little tosser,” John murmured, brushing his lips over Sherlock’s one last time before allowing himself to be led to their bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Hope you enjoyed. :)


End file.
